Fleeting Pixels
by Dexandra
Summary: When Joey Wheeler accepts a position of game tester at Kaiba Corp, he finds himself immersed in his own perfect world. As the lines between reality and the virtual world begin to blur, his ties to the real world and his loyalty to his friends come into question, as does his confusing relationship with Seto Kaiba, and his growing infatuation with his new boss's virtual clone.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

It was 3:00 am and night still gripped Domino City with desperate hands.

In a few hours the streets would flood, and the empty roads would be filled to burst with cars crawling along like a procession of ants, and at about the speed of it too. But for now, with black skies tinged blue and mist settling against the pavement, the bustling City was silent.

Tucked into a dank, cluttered corner of Domino City, in a street entirely of apartment complexes and run down houses, Joey Wheeler blinked the sting out of his eyes and watched three headlights drift down the road like fireflies.

His cigarette had long ago turned stale, and added to the bitterness souring his tongue with every breath. He hadn't smoked since his gang days, and something about it clenched and twisted at his stomach in what he supposed was guilt, but he'd lost the resolve to cope without the help of a friend. And rather than tugging Yugi or Tristan into his problems, he decided to revisit his oldest companion. Its advice was the same as ever.

_'Just one more smoke!'_

_'You'll feel better after another one.'_

_'Third time's the charm right?'_

The smoke curled in the air, reaching up and tangling its fingers in the wind that made him shudder in his thin t-shirt and tattered jeans. Tucked between the bottom of the steel railing and the messy brickwork of his balcony, his toes were numbing.

The fireflies approached faster, and their soft globes of light turned harsh and piercing at the first whisper of a motorcycle's rumble. The rumble soon became a roar and the bikes sped past Joey's apartment at what he assumed was three times over the speed limit, their riders maniacally screeching and hooting, dragging his calm away with them.

_'What am I doing? It's 3:00 o'clock in the morning, why am I even up?'_

Growling to himself, he crushed the cigarette against the railing and headed back inside.

It was a stupid question. He knew why he was up.

For the past few months he'd been rising at 3:00 am every morning to get ready for the early shift at work. A street punk like Joey had suffered many defeats, insults and pain in various experiences, but he had to admit, rising early for work then realizing he had nowhere to go felt pretty fucking awful.

Yesterday had been hell on Earth. After he'd lost his job, he'd come home and angrily drained a few beers he fished out of the back of his fridge to take the edge off.

He hadn't drank all that much, but he could still feel the inklings of a hangover lingering around his head. It wasn't pain exactly, more like an odd sort of pressure, like hands squeezing at his temples. It circled his head, gently pressing here and there, threatening to dive in and erupt pain in his skull at any second.

_'What now?'_

What now, indeed. It was only a matter of time until the money he'd been saving started draining again. He could already feel the hunger. For food, nicotine, or peace of mind, whatever. It would begin soon, the minute those numbers started dropping. When he thought about it, it had never stopped, really. But since he met Yugi, his life had gotten considerably better and the happiness that consumed him drowned out the hunger until it was merely a whisper in comparison.

But now it had gained control again and rather than a whisper it would be howling, clawing at him, dragging him back to a dark place, a place of desperation that he never wanted to see again.

It was funny, but whenever he imagined the money disappearing, all he saw was that tiny bar of numbers rolling down, sliding out of his grasp like one of those ancient flip alarm clocks. Or like-

_'-like lifepoints.'_

He felt as though some creature had crawled down inside him and was gouging at him from within, scraping blunt fingernails along the pit of his stomach.

_'My lifepoints are draining.'_

He wanted to collapse but his bed wasn't worth collapsing into. The mattress was a piece of trash he'd picked up from some garage sale down the road. Cheap to begin with, any quality it had held at its original purchase had been beaten out of it by its previous owners. How they'd managed this, Joey didn't want to think about. Now, the mattress was nothing more than a lump of padding and broken springs. Other people, less constructive people, would find no worth or use for it, but Joey didn't mind it.

He didn't see it as broken; he saw it as well used. He could sleep almost anywhere, and he could risk sacrificing the utmost comfort to save a few bucks.

As he slumped down in the center of the bed his ass sunk deep, almost to the floor, and he felt the twang of it's split springs flicking beneath his weight.

Today his well used bed seemed pretty broken.

He wrestled with the rough sheets, burying his face in the pillow and trying to force out every painful thought that drifted through his head like stale smoke.

He ran his fingers through his hair, then grabbing fistfuls and pulling until it stung, like dull, hot needles pricking his scalp. He found the pain comforting in a way; the physicality of it grounded him while all his emotional pain seemed to do was send him flying. He used it to anchor himself, holding on for dear life as everything else whirled around him like a hurricane, battering his body and threatening to sweep him away.

As he wrenched his fingers out of the blonde mess he could feel oil lingering on them, coating his fingertips dry and damp at the same time. He needed to wash his hair. And shave.

But what for? He had nowhere to go, no one to see.

He eased up onto his shoulders and peered across the room. His cupboard was right across from his bed, and he'd left the door open after angrily flinging his clothes inside it last night. The mirror within peaked out from behind the dark wood, and he caught a glimpse of himself.

Dark bags had collected beneath his eyes and when he squinted they puffed like withered balloons. His hair hung limp and dirty from his head and blonde stubble dotted his cheeks. He looked terrible.

The dull light of the morning was playing tricks on him. As he turned his head, the shadows would manipulate his features. His face would shift and transform as he turned it this way and that, like Serenity's favorite bookmark as a child; a lenticular print of a white horse that galloped back and forth as you twisted the card.

He kept catching glimpses as he turned his head. He tilted his jaw, shadows rising and falling across the plains of his features as he struggled to see it again. When he did he wished he hadn't.

The shadows hollowed out his cheeks and emptied his eyes, twisting his lips into a sneer and carving harsh angles into his jaw. He looked like someone else.

Someone all too familiar.

He was jolted from the startling, sickening resemblance as he angled his head slightly and the shadows retracted, and all of a sudden he was just a hung over kid again, grimacing at his own reflection. He slumped back onto the bed, trying to escape his pallid appearance.

He laid there for what seemed like days, struggling to smother his emotions and ease back into sleep. The lingering pressure around his head began drilling into his skull and he grimaced at the pain. The dull ticking of his alarm clock filled the room until every tiny click made him flinch.

And as he watched shades of gold and peach seep into the blue-blackness of the sky outside of his balcony, he accepted that there was no way in hell he was getting back to sleep, so he gathered himself up and got out of bed.

He undressed, throwing his clothes into the growing pile occupying the corner of his bathroom, and clambered into his dingy shower. Once the water was flowing, he sunk down onto the floor, resting his throbbing head in his hands and allowing rivulets of hot water to ease the tension from his shoulders.

He went through the rest of his morning wishing he'd stayed there.

After he's washed his hair and shaved, he breathed a sigh of relief when he looked in the mirror and saw himself peering back again. Harsh, stinging spearmint flushed the taste of cigarettes from his mouth, and he got dressed and left the apartment.

And when he emerged onto the street he was long on his way to feeling like Joey Wheeler again.

* * *

Updated 9/5/16  
Minor changes in sentence structure and spelling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Joey enjoyed walking through Domino in the early hours of the morning.

Something about its emptiness was calming, and the pleasure of the walk was one of the reasons he'd put up with the ridiculous morning shift time for his job.

As a teenager, silence had set his teeth on edge and isolation had terrified him.

Like sealing a lid on a pot of boiling water, peace and quiet, rather than calming him, used to smother him and spark up his irritation.

While he'd thrived on chaos and speed when he was younger, maturity had made partial to peace, and the last few years had forced him to enjoy his own company. Hell, he couldn't remember the last he time he saw Yugi or Tristan.

He remembered the exact date of the last time he saw Tea though. September 20th, when she boarded a plane, laughing and sobbing as though she couldn't decide whether to be euphoric or terrified, for New York. Her dancing had taken her beyond their limiters. Or at least that's what Joey had thought.

He soon found out that Yugi and Tristan's limiters were very different to his.

After Egypt, Yugi hadn't dueled at all, and Joey had known better than to pester him about it.

Yugi had already been struggling to adapt to life without having the Pharaoh present, and Joey could tell. None of them could mistake the dreamy, distant stare he used to slip into when was consoling with Atem. Even after Egypt, he would sometimes drift into the same gaze, only to suddenly blink into awareness, and every time Joey would watch as Yugi's facade of happiness crumbled a little, and he would swallow the comforting words he felt rising in his throat because what the hell did he know?

After the result of Yugi's last duel and the absence of his closest companion, pushing him to take up dueling again would have just been cruel.

Months passed after school had finished, and Yugi began to seem genuinely happy again, so he'd attempted to entice him into it again. It was in that moment that he realized just how good of an actor his friend was as he watched Yugi attempt to explain the intensity of his loss. After choking out a few sentences the facade collapsed entirely as did his friend. It seemed that with the rush of the end of the school year he hadn't had the time to grieve, so he did it right there of the living room floor with Joey's arms around his shoulders struggling to contain the sobs that wracked his body like an earthquake.

As uplifting as Yugi's brave face was, the Pharaoh's absence had gouged a hole in him, and he told Joey that he felt more alone in that moment then he ever had in his whole life, and Joey had tried as hard as he could to relate.

Only now did he understand what it must have been like.

More months passed, and one day Yugi suddenly challenged Joey to a duel.

It had lasted a while, and they'd both been a little rusty, but it sparked something alight in Yugi again, and just like that he was gone.

He flitting from place to place, going wherever his dueling would take him, and with the title of King of Games it was taking him very far. For all Joey knew, he was in Antarctica by now.

He was as enthusiastic as ever about Yugi's dueling, but he missed him, and so had Tristan before he'd gone too.

Tristan just wasn't around. After high school they'd worked together and even lived together for a while but at some point Joey had seen less and less of him each day until he eventually vanished. It had something to do with a girl, Joey was sure of that. Tristan had gushed about her for weeks on end; so often that Joey had eventually learned to tune it out, and as a result he could barely even remember her name. Miko? Miho? Something like that.

Tristan had always been a hopeless romantic. His tendency to "fall in love" wouldn't get on Joey's nerves if he didn't spend hours chewing through Joey's head schmoozing about it as he tried to work meaning into pathetic lovesick crushes sparked by his furious sex drive.

Now, Joey found himself missing Tristan's mindless chatter. Most days now he was surrounded by silence.

He was angry his friends were gone, and at the same time he felt bad because of it. After all, they were chasing their dreams, the things they'd lusted after all through their lives were within their reach and they were all reaching out to grab it. And what was he doing other than getting fired from his piece of crap job and moping around afterwards?

_'Even if they were here, wouldn't I just be holding them back?'_

That sordid creature was back and the unbearable scraping in his stomach was a hell of a lot worse.

His own emotions had always made him uncomfortable, so he usually avoided them. But thanks to this squirming, uneasy sensation rising in his gut, it felt as though his feelings were tugging at him, shouting for acknowledgment, and if he had to interpret this he'd probably call it a mix between loneliness and resentment. Possibly even a little envy.

The last time he could remember feeling like this was when the divorce had torn his family apart and Serenity had been snatched from his reach.

Was that the source of his desperation? Had his friends been snatched away?

No of course they hadn't. They'd just…

Left.

'_Oh God…'_

He changed his mind. He didn't want to be here. Out here all alone with his emotions and his stupidity and that thing lurking within him tearing him to pieces.

He decided to go back home. It felt childish and stupid, like he was surrendering to an invisible perpetrator, but he couldn't stay out here.

As he was crossing the road he calmed himself. A new destination to work towards made him feel a little better by pushing his thoughts back, but he could feel his emotions whirling around him again, and knew they would sweep him away eventually.

_'I'll be alone at home too.'_

He paused and contemplated it. Soon the buzz would start in Domino as rush hour came clamoring in. He could get a coffee, maybe something for breakfast, and perhaps the savory grease of whatever cheap crap he was willing to eat would smother his loneliness for a while.

But at the same time, watching so many people rushing to work would wear down on him, and he knew from experience that he never felt lonelier than when he was surrounded by strangers.

But did he really want to lock himself up in his room like some hormonal teenager? Those years had passed (or at least he hoped they had) and the piles of unwashed dishes and rumpled clothes tossed into darkened corners reminded him of his solitude, and even the odor of the apartment now set him on edge, as he'd just recently polluted it with the stench of cigarettes.

A dark, lonely apartment stinking of tobacco. It stirred angry memories within him from a dark place, memories he could do without.

The honk of a car horn shattered the silence and made him jump out of his skin. Heart pounding, it occurred to him that he was still standing in the middle of the road, and he flapped his hand at the car in a gesture that was both irritated and sheepish as he stumbled to the other side.

_'What the hell? Who else could be up this earl-'_

As he glanced back at the vehicle and watched it glide away it occurred to him just how long the sleek, black car was. He realized it was a limo and turned to march away in the opposite direction as fast as he could, reigning in his urge to sprint and trying to smother the frantic fight or flight response the limo's appearance had ignited in him for the first time in a while. In his sombre mood the last thing he needed was a run-in with the great ego maniacal ass, Seto Kaiba.

As he heard the limo continue on behind him, he settled his nerves, reassuring himself he'd missed whatever potential for confrontation that had caused him to panic earlier. He savored the calm for a few seconds before the sound of the limo's breaks screeching tore through him like a bullet and dread pooled in his stomach as he heard a car door open. He was in no way prepared for battle, and in his mood Kaiba's usual snide insults would rip him to pieces.

"Joey! Hey! Hey Joey wait up!"

He braked as well as a high, raspy voice broke the silence. He knew that voice. He had a second to turn before a ball of adolescent muscle slammed into him and sent him stumbling to avoid tumbling over.

"Juh-_heesuz Mokuba!_" he gasped. The impact had knocked the air out of his lungs, and from the shit-eating grin on Mokuba Kaiba's face that was exactly what the boy had intended.

"Long time no see!" he chirped, backing away after their collision and giving Joey some well-needed space. Having only recently being stunned out of the calm silence of the morning, Joey winced a little Mokuba's voice. The kid always managed to sound like he was shouting.

"Yeah, no kidding."

It had been over a year since he'd seen or spoken to either Mokuba or Kaiba. It was kind of pitifully ironic how he saw his enemy as rarely as he saw his friends.

As scarcely as he'd seen the Kaiba brothers in the flesh, he had witnessed a few of Kaiba Corp's new commercials for upcoming products. From what he'd seen of Kaiba, looking perfect as ever as he smirked out at him from HD television screens across Domino, he hadn't changed at all. He couldn't say the same for the younger Kaiba, however, whose wild hair now tickled his jaw.

His hair had grown since he'd last seen him, but its length did nothing to restrain the wayward spikes. He kept reaching up to wrench his fingers through the blue-black mess and brush his lengthy bangs out of his vision. Joey swore that hair was spring-loaded. Every time Mokuba raked it into some state of neatness, it just bounced back.

His face had matured also, his handsome features beginning to resemble the pixels of his brother's commercials.

"It's been ages, I can't believe we ran into each other!" the boy grinned.

'_Quite literally.' _Joey smiled back as pleasantly as he could while rubbing his battered and slightly winded torso. How Kaiba managed to keep his footing while Mokuba pounced on him, he'd never know.

"So what are you doing in the middle of the road so early?" Mokuba quirked an eyebrow.

"Ugh-" he scrambled for a response. There was no way in hell he was discussing his money issues or loneliness with a 13-year-old billionaire anytime soon. It was just too humiliating.  
"W-well I could ask the same of you."

Mokuba glanced back at the limo and when Joey looked up he caught a glimpse of the chauffeur glaring out at them, angry and confused but not surprised. Mokuba turned back to Joey and flashed his perfect teeth in another wicked smile.

"I was playing video games and I had to go on a food run. Seto's been on another weird diet lately. All he eats now is celery and lentils and crap." Mokuba made a face.

Joey couldn't help but smile at that. "Yuck."

"Tell me about it! I'm totally starved!"

Joey chuckled as Mokuba began wildly detailing the abusive food deprivation his brother was forcing him into. He was just as comical as ever and his enthusiasm was contagious. The blonde had been with him for less than a minute and he was already grinning like an idiot, his previous gloominess abandoned.

The limo was still running in the middle of the road with one of its doors hanging wide open, and the red-faced driver honked impatiently.

Mokuba rolled his eyes, glancing back to flap his hand irritably, then continued.

"So why are you out?"

Joey's gut clenched. "Uhh…just…taking a walk."

"You heading anywhere?"

"Well I-uh…" Joey rubbed his neck for a few seconds, considering his response. He didn't know if he fully trusted Mokuba, especially with how easily he wore his brother's evil smirk. The kid was a Kaiba after all, and well known to be a mischievous little brat if given the chance. Maybe it would be safer to just continue on his way and head home.

But on the other hand…he wasn't lonely anymore.

It wasn't much of a counterclaim, but it was enough.

"…No, I'm not busy." Joey smiled meekly.

Mokuba broke into a wide grin. Something about his genuine, innocent smile settled Joey's nerves, and he felt compelled to grin back. That was, until he snatched up Joey's wrist and began tugging him along with towards the limo. He was shockingly strong for his size, and even as Joey dragged his heels and attempted to tug away he barely slowed him down. Joey was sure that his hidden strength was something purely hereditary, as he could recall a moment where Kaiba, slender as he was, managed to effortlessly lift Mokuba with one hand and throw him onto a moving blimp. Maybe it was just strength supplied by adrenaline, because Mokuba seemed very excited at the opportunity of having a new companion, maybe even more excited about it than him.

When he thought about it, Mokuba probably lead a pretty lonely life too.

"Awesome! Come on, let's go get pancakes and chocolate parfait for breakfast!" He released Joey's hand, clambered into the limo and motioned for the blonde to follow him.

Joey gulped at the inklings of what looked like very shiny brown leather, and glancing around he realized that everything within the limo looked very expensive. Every time he'd participated in a duel tournament and had been on the receiving end of privileges reserved for the wealthy, he'd dipped into a lifestyle that was like another world. In that world he always felt out of place, like he was trekking dirt on the expensive carpets or leaving smudges on the silverware. He felt like he just _oozed_ lower class, and anything expensive he'd touch would be destroyed, anything he'd set his eyes on would shrivel up, as though his mere presence diminished anything of worth. He'd pushed it back and graciously accepted all he was given, relaxing on the expensive beds and cramming as much of the quality food into his mouth as he could. He'd never confided in his friends about his feelings because…

…Well, just because.

He even considered declining Mokuba's offer for breakfast, company and maybe even a new friend over something as stupid as leather seats until the kid reached out and, using his iron grip, practically yanked him inside.

It was all he could do to avoid toppling the Mount Everest of potato chips, soda and sweets piled onto the seats.

"Also I need someone to help me eat all of this before Seto sees it." Mokuba chuckled, and threw a shiny, brown package at him. Joey, still gawking at the sheer amount of junk food Mokuba had managed to buy under his brother's nose and stuff into what now seemed like a tiny limo, fumbled as he caught the bag.

The plastic crinkled in his hands, and, not recognizing the packaging, he turned it over to examine the logo.

"'Burger Rings'?" He read uncertainly.

"Yep, they're chips from Australia. You should try 'em."

Joey blinked and gaped at him. "Australia?"

Mokuba's sweet smile darkened into a smirk again. "I called in some favors. You'd be surprised just how much foreign food you can find in some stores around Domino, and I'm gonna try 'em all!"

Joey sniggered at that, scanning the food and locating masses of unfamiliar packages in dozens of languages. "I believe you."

He stabled himself and sat down very tentatively, the image of stained expensive brown leather prominent in his mind, before he split open the package and began savoring the strange taste of foreign food.

Mokuba leaned up to bark orders through the partition at the grouchy driver, who grunted in response and began speeding away before settling himself among the plastic packaging and fishing out a bag of his own, his bearing the Lays logo and some language with strangely square lettering. Joey's best guess was Russian.

Joey watched the city begin to awaken as it floated past through tinted windows, and Mokuba chattered away through a mouthful of chips. "We're headed to a breakfast cafe down near the city square. It serves everything and is open super early too."

Joey raised a brow at that. "Even this early?"

"Hey, I'm Mokuba Kaiba, they'll serve if I tell them to serve."

Joey snorted and rolled his eyes at Mokuba's arrogant tone. It seemed as though he was inheriting his brother's ego as well as his looks. But while Kaiba's condescension grated on every nerve in Joey's body he found Mokuba's bratty nature a little endearing.

They spoke vigorously and easily as they ploughed through their snacks. Their simple, aimless conversation filled a hole in Joey. He'd forgotten how good it felt to be able to talk about utter bullshit for ages without once slipping into more mature topics like relationships or money. He was relaxing for the first time in days and fully content when Mokuba inadvertently sent it all crashing down.

He caught a glance of Joey's potato chips and suddenly remembered a question he'd forgotten to ask earlier.

"So about Australia, how's Yugi doing? I hear he's pretty huge there now that he's gone pro."

Joey froze on the spot. All of the warmth and happiness in him trickled out, leaving him cold and empty.

"Yugi's in Australia?"

Mokuba glanced up, regretting stuffing his mouth with chips as his reply came thick and garbled, very inappropriate for what suddenly seemed like a tense situation.

"Yeah, he's been there for weeks. It's pretty big news; I'm surprised you didn't know. I thought you two were like-"

"We are!" Joey snapped, and both he and Mobuka blinked at the forcefulness of his reply.

Mokuba stared at him petulantly after that, as though demanding an explanation. He clearly didn't take kindly to being yelled at over such a simple question, and from the look in his eyes Joey could tell Mokuba had taken on quite a few adults who'd been set on ordering him around.

"Well," Joey began sheepishly, rubbing at the nape of his neck again. "We haven't seen each other in a while but…I hope we are."

"Oh." Mokuba's gaze softened. There was something to his simple reply that seemed to radiate understanding.

"And Tea went to NYC, right?" his voice grew quieter. Softer.

Maybe a little too understanding. Joey hesitantly nodded and stuffed potato chips into his mouth. He'd thought that all Mokuba did was shout, something about the way his voice had grown quiet only worked to further unsettle him.

"And Tristan…"

"He's around." Joey grunted a little too violently. He paused, reigning himself in, and smiled apologetically before frowning down at his food.

He couldn't place the source of this sudden aggression. Every time he opened his mouth in response, something strangely defensive came tumbling out. Perhaps it had something to do with the way Mokuba was starting to radiate waves of pity.

He could just tell what he was thinking.

_'Poor little Joey Wheeler all alone.'_

As though he couldn't fight for himself, as though he didn't have a chance. He'd been facing that pity all his life.

It was one of the reasons his friends had been forced to drag the truth of his living situation out of him in high school. One of the reasons he hadn't even tried to contact Yugi, Tristan or Tea since they'd left.

His desire for independence had always managed to alienate him. It was a petty, stubborn, nonsensical thing, but he'd learned when he was young that if you relied on others, you'd always pay for it, and despite the years and friends that pulled him out of that lifestyle, he couldn't let it go.

Mokuba's expression was kind, concerned, and yet his eyes were burning holes into Joey and he glanced away, finding himself staring at his reflection in the partition. No wonder Mokuba was worried, he looked like something had opened him up and hollowed him out. He didn't feel like Joey Wheeler anymore.

He angled his jaw slightly and then it happened again, he didn't look like Joey Wheeler anymore. His hair was washed, his face clean, the limo was fully lit and yet it happened again. One second Joey Wheeler stared out at him, the next it was someone else, someone he never wanted to be. The white horse galloped back and forth, back and forth.

"So, Joey..."

Mokuba's oddly soft voice broke him from his thoughts, snapped his attention away from his reflection. He'd been so absorbed in it he'd forgotten where he was.

The kid crinkled plastic as he fidgeted in his nest of sweets and when he smiled at Joey it was laced with the familiar, misplaced kindliness that always made him feel ill.

"…Well recently a position just opened up in Kaiba Corp for a beta tester."

_That_ caught Joey's attention. He swallowed both his deep seated awkwardness at being pitied and his mouthful of food as he asked, "Beta tester?"

"Yeah, they're game testers. They run through the games Kaiba Corp makes after the alpha testers and point out any glitches or software bugs, helping to prepare them for sale. Every Kaiba Corp product gets tested loads of times before we're sure they're ready. When it comes to duel-related stuff, usually Seto does it alone, but on our latest product he wants public input to get it perfect. One of our betas recently dropped out of the program and now we're one short."

Joey's excitement was rising with every word, but he reigned himself in in front of the younger boy. But his stomach could barely contain it, and it leaped and spun uncomfortably, performing aerobatic manoeuvrings inside him. "So it's like a job?"

"Yeah, exactly. And I was wondering if…maybe you were interested?"

* * *

_Much longer chapter this time. Third chapter is almost finished, so stay tuned. Please review! - Dex_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Sweet and savory mingled in the scent that wafted out to greet them when Mokuba swung open the door to the small cafe.

It was fairly crowded considering the early hour, but the people that were there were either chatting idly or shut in at booths, clacking away on laptops, and the quiet was broken as the shrill, bubbling screech of milk being steamed erupted from the coffee machine at the counter.

A pretty, petite girl with caramel skin was working the cash register when they entered. Steam gushed from the coffee machine next to her, stirring up the dark, loose curls that had escaped her hair tie, and the freckles that flecked over her complexion were as randomly scattered at the shop's customers.

Mokuba led Joey over to stand behind a lanky young man waiting for his coffee with a laptop jammed under his arm and a bag stuffed full of textbooks teetering precariously from his bony shoulder. Joey processed his brief conversation with Mokuba before they'd arrived.

A job at Kaiba Corp was no doubt an amazing opportunity, and he could already tell that a million duelists would kill to get a taste of the latest Kaiba Corp technology before the general public. Plus there was the job itself. Playing video games all day and getting paid for it? That was a pretty solid way to keep his shorter attention span engaged, not to mention that Kaiba was one of the greats when it came to game design.

Hell, when he was younger, some of Kaiba Corp's consoles at Yugi's place had kept them occupied for hours.

But then again, he'd be working under one of his greatest rivals.

Kaiba was firm and stubborn as hell, so he doubted he'd changed much since he'd last spoken to him a year ago, and Kaiba's stubbornness was the least of his problems. He was also obsessive, cold, mean as hell and a little bit crazy.

_'Who knows the kinda crap he'd put me through?' _Joey fidgeted where he stood. He could already feel his indecisiveness crawling in.

If he pushed aside the fact that Mokuba had clearly offered the job out of pity, as far as he could see it, the only downside was Kaiba. In the past working with him had been excruciating, but working _for_ him?

And would Kaiba even hire him? Sure Mokuba might be able to smuggle junk food under his brother's nose, but Joey seriously doubted that Mokuba was adept at people smuggling.

The man in front of them grabbed his coffee and shuffled away, and as they approached the counter the girl working there squealed with delight.

"Miss me, Alice?" It seemed as though Mokuba's sex organs had really started kicking into action, because his entire persona changed as he sauntered up and rested his elbows on the counter to lean in close, and Joey was suddenly reminded of much smaller and slightly less seedy Duke Devlin.

She grinned down at him. "I was wondering when your next early morning visit would be. Video games again? Those will rot your brain, you know?" she sounded genuinely affectionate, almost motherly. And it seemed that Mokuba's strange behavior that morning was even more of a habit than Joey had first realised.

He turned his attention back to the girl. She looked to be in her early twenties.

When she smiled Joey could see that her teeth were long and thin, aligning perfectly like pearly piano keys, with a neat gap between the front two. She faltered a little on her greeting when she noticed him.

"Who's this?"

"My great friend Joey Wheeler, who's in _desperate_ need of some sustenance."

Joey fidgeted where he stood as Alice unashamedly gave him a full once-over, and when she met his eyes again her next smile was complete with pouting lips and batting eyelashes. He gulped and smiled back a little uneasily.

As much as he liked attention and women, he never really enjoyed flirting. He always got flustered way too easily. In fact, he was a little envious of Mokuba's confidence, which wore away at his already depleted self-esteem a little.

_'A 13-year-old kid has more game than I do. Nice.'_

Mokuba, looking far too amused for his own good, turned back to the older girl. "The usual for two please, Alice?"

She blinked as Mokuba's voice broke her out of her coy smirk and offered him a more sheepish look as she started punching numbers into the cash register.

Joey rocked back and forth on his heels awkwardly and when he glanced down Mokuba was staring at him from under his eyelashes with a sly, mocking grin plastered on his face.

_'The little shit.'_ Joey started growling, which only seemed to deepen Mokuba's smirk.

After exchanging money with Alice, Mokuba led Joey over to a small booth next to one of the shop's windows where they sat and he switched his business face on. After facing his pity and his amusement at Joey's expense, it was a welcome change.

"Want to know more about the job?"

Joey scoffed a little. "Well, obviously. I mean, it sounds great and all but this is your brother we're talking about."

"He's really not that bad Joey." Mokuba began defensively, and then faltered a little at the indignant look he was shot with. "Well…at least not to employees."

Joey sniffed a little at that before pulling on his own business face of sorts. He'd made dealings and transactions in the past, however back then he had been surrounded by thugs and criminals.

If there was anything he'd learned about getting his way with a business dealing, it was gaining control of the conversation and asserting dominance. Mokuba was no thug and his offer was simply out of the goodness of his heart, so he doubted he'd have to utilize the skills he'd learned on the streets. However, considering who Mokuba was and the kind of power he held (not to mention the power of his brother, Joey's potential future boss) it was still pretty necessary to remind the kid he was no pushover, so he decided to invade his space a little by leaning over the table.

He tried to make it subtle, but as usual he lacked poise in every sense of the word and ended up jammed his elbow onto the table so hard the saltshakers clattered.

He gritted his teeth a little in exasperation and when Mokuba's eyes flitted down to his arm, his lips were pressed together like he was holding back a laugh.

Joey shook it off and continued. "Okay first off, I need to know what kinda game we're talking about here."

"Well…" Mokuba began. When he spoke his voice sounded strained, and he was avoiding Joey's eyes like he was nervous, which in turn made Joey feel a little uneasy.

"Am I working some kind of console? A duel robot? What?"

Mokuba's long, hesitant pause was grinding on Joey's nerves by the time he finally spoke up again. "You remember when we played the Legendary Heroes game in the virtua pods at Seto's lab?"

"Yeah. To save your brother from those five creeps right?"

The memories started flooding back. The game had been exhilarating to say the least; unlike anything he'd ever played before. It had served as a virtual doorway into Kaiba's creative mind, so it was as strange and thoroughly creepy as expected, which was just another aspect that added to the game's fascination. But once those jerks had taken over, it had become a prison.

He glanced back at Mokuba, who was still avoiding his eyes, and the implications of what the boy said sunk in, and he sat up in alarm.

"Are you telling me I gotta play that again?" he shouted, breaking the quiet of the morning and earning them a few worried glances from around the shop.

Mokuba hushed him frantically, sinking low in his seat to avoid the confused stares being shot their way. "Not the exact same game. Because it was tampered with, Seto reworked it-"

"But I still gotta upload my mind into a digital world, right?"

"Well…yeah…" Mokuba shifted in his seat uneasily.

"No way! Do you remember what happened last time?"

It was a haunting sensation, having your psychical strength rendered useless while your mind was in the virtual world, and Joey could still vividly remember the terrifying feeling of complete helplessness as he was eliminated from the game. All duels left you feeling a little psychically exhausted, but when he surrendered his Red Eyes Black Dragon to protect Mokuba from the Mythic Dragon's attack, the way it drained him was shocking to the point of where it reminded him of a Shadow Game.

Up until the moment the Big Five were defeated, his mind was suspended in nothingness. According to Yugi, he was gone for about 7 minutes before Princess Adina transformed into the Mystical Elf and brought him back, but floating in the black expanse of virtual emptiness, it had felt like weeks.

He shuddered from the memory and shook his head furiously.

"I'm not going into that again. Sorry Mokuba, deal's off. I'll just find myself some other job."

"No! It's fine, really!" Mokuba was the one raising his voice now, and he winced a little as the cafe once again became their private audience.

When he turned to Joey again, he was pleading. "I'm a beta tester as well. I've been playing since before the public testing opened, and the whole game is different. The only reason it went wrong last time was because it was reprogrammed by the Big Five. Seto's been working on this new technology for so long, there's no way he'll give up just because a couple of sickos interfered, he wants to make it perfect and he's almost there!

"Please, one of the reasons I asked if you wanted the job was because I get pretty lonely playing the same thing over and over by myself, and I wanted someone other than a bunch of strangers to work with. If it's too intense you can just drop out like the last beta, but can you at least give it a try?"

Joey sniffed and leaned back in his chair as he thought about it.

Sure, his previous experience with the Legendary Heroes game was thoroughly unpleasant, but if Mokuba was right and that was simply the doing of the Big Five, then surely it would be different this time. Mokuba had experienced the same vast emptiness of the virtual world as he did when he sacrificed himself for his brother, and even with that shocking experience, he was ensuring Joey of the game's safety. And surely if some 13-year-old kid could handle it, so could he.

Plus Kaiba must have been convinced of the reprogrammed game's security if he allowed not only public beta testers but also his own brother to play.

Like Mokuba said, he could always drop out, and if he pushed aside the Big Five's interference and the creepier aspects of the game, it was a genius program, and an amazing experience. An experience he would be getting paid for.

_'Speaking of which…'_

He nodded at Mokuba. "Alright, I'll think about it. Second thing I gotta know, how much am I getting paid for, here? Because I heard that game testers get barely any bank."

"Well usually, but considering the kind of system the virtua pods are, the physical and mental exertion that comes from playing, and the fact you'll be working for Kaiba Corp, you're gonna get paid a lot more that regular betas." Mokuba assured him.

"Alright, how much are we talking, here?"

"Depending on how often you play throughout the week and for how long, up to…" Mokuba cast his dark eyes to the ceiling as he thought, and they flitted back down to Joey as he said, "Up to two thousand dollars a week."

Joey's eyes practically popped out of his head. "Two thousand a _week_? For playing a _video game_ all day?"

"Yeah, but depending on how much you play, it varies." Mokuba shrugged, as if it was nothing, and Joey sunk back into his seat, unaware he'd almost leaped out of it.

Suddenly, floating in virtual oblivion didn't seem so bad.

As soon as Joey began considering time he would spend in-game, he formulated his next question, and leaned across the table again, prepared to pay rapt attention to what he assumed was going to be a lengthy response.

"Okay, now I need to know what I gotta do in _detail._ I walk into Kaiba Corp to start working for the day, then what?"

"Well…" Mokuba scratched at his head, thinking. "Well first you'd go up to the front desk and sign in, and then they'd give you a pass so you can access the elevators and enter the rooms. Once you're in, you get into your assigned virtua pod and you play for however long you want. You have to do a minimum of five hours of game play for the day, but most of the betas play for way longer. If they play for too long without breaks we actually have to eject them from the game. Ya know, workplace health and safety and all that."

Joey nodded along, listening intently. It all sounded fairly basic so far.

"And once I'm done for the day?"

Mokuba grinned. "The fun part. You fill out a report, write about your findings and record any malfunctions or glitches, or even improvements you think are useful for the game."

"Writing. Reports. Fantastic." Joey droned, grimacing.

Mokuba shrugged. "All a part of the job. It can't be all fun and games all of the time, even if in this job fun and games _is_ your job." He sighed a little and slouched over the table.

"Years of watching Seto work have taught me how un-fun creating fun is. Which reminds me, being a beta tester doesn't mean you just breeze through all the levels, write a report, then leave. Sometimes it means you have to play the same level over and over, just to note any differences.

"On this platform of gaming, recording change can be pretty hard, considering the fact that you have an almost unlimited amount of ways to respond to different things in the program, unlike in other games where you have to select a set amount of options. Seto wanted to make it as interactive as possible, so with that in mind this will probably be a bit more challenging then you think it is. The reports are pretty vital."

Joey felt a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach as a though occurred to him. "I don't need specific grades or degrees or anything do I?"

He breathed a sigh of relief as Mokuba shook his head. "Not really. You can't be illiterate, obviously, and you need to have a basic idea of how the reports are meant to be written. There's a specific structure to follow, but it's not too difficult to understand. I can help you, and you can ask for help from other betas if you want."

Joey nodded, but he discarded the suggestion the moment he heard it. Asking a bunch of strangers who were probably all skilled duelists for help? No way.

Mokuba opened his mouth to continue then snapped his jaw shut as Alice approached the table and set down two dainty porcelain cups brimming with so much foam that Joey was sure that if he disturbed it in any way it would flood over the sides. His fears were proven irrational however as Mokuba carelessly dumped a packet of sugar into it and smiled up at the waitress.

He stared at the cup for a few seconds before guessing its contents.

"Cappuccino?"

"Yeah, I hope you don't mind." Mokuba remarked absently as he poured more and more sugar into his coffee until torn packets began littering the table.

Joey watched Mokuba deflate the mountain of foam as he stirred it into the coffee, and made a face as the boy took a sip. He didn't even want to imagine how sweet that was.

Alice put his thoughts into words as she groaned under her breath.

"Mokuba that's _gross_!"

He glanced up and very deliberately slurped at his coffee, smirking around the cup as she let out a disgusted hiss.

As Joey poured a much more reasonable amount of sugar into his, she assured them that the rest of food would arrive soon. When he hesitantly asked what he was in for she replied with a sly "You'll see" before sauntering away, leaving Joey's eyes to wander down to her ass before it disappeared behind the counter.

Mokuba chuckled. "She wants you so bad."

"She does, doesn't she?" Joey grinned back. While he wasn't much of a flirt, being flirted with did wonders for his ego.

Mokuba rolled his eyes and Joey mimicked the boy's previous amused smirk before he began sipping his own beverage.

He didn't drink coffee often. Like a quality mattress, he considered it a delicacy that he had neither the money nor time for, but he could appreciate it and understand its appeal whenever he had the opportunity to enjoy it.

When he was in high school some mornings he'd choked himself on his father's crappy black coffee just for the caffeine boost to get him through the day, especially in his last few years, where he'd pushed himself to the limits to achieve final grades he'd be proud of. Before he met Yugi, high school had been nothing but a hindrance, and it was only after his life started improving that he began putting effort into his schoolwork.

In fact, it was only after his friends entered his life that he started putting effort into anything. Maybe that was why he felt so apathetic about most things in his life nowadays.

He could feel himself sinking back into the same gloomy state as before, so he shook his head in an attempt to clear it and set his cup back on the table.

With his happiness muffled, he found himself longing for a distraction, so he said the first thing that came to mind, the thing he'd been wondering ever since Mokuba's offer came to be.

"How do you know your brother is even going to hire me?"

Mokuba blinked a little at Joey's voice, which had turned from jovial to serious in a manner of seconds.

"Well I…" he began quietly, before sighing. "I don't know. He'll do almost anything if I really beg, but knowing your relationship with him he might really object to this."

"Or he'll jump at the opportunity to mess with me." Joey's lip curled as he spoke.

Kaiba's attitude towards him never ceased to confuse him. He always seemed to fluctuate between taking personal pleasure in aggravating him and dismissing him completely. Kaiba's attention was like an unflattering spotlight, it either pinpointed at Joey, enhancing all of his flaws, or it pointed elsewhere, dousing him in darkness, there was no middle ground.

With this unpredictability in mind, there was no certainty of whether Kaiba would have no interest in Joey's presence and refuse him entry into the program or if he would hire him simply to control and abuse him.

"Your brother's been pretty cruel to me in the past, you know?"

Mokuba frowned at him. "He's gotten better, Joey."

"And how can you guarantee he won't get worse?"

Mokuba paused at that, and Joey felt a pang of guilt as the kid's head drooped. He couldn't see his expression, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"Hey, I know he's not some monster, and he _has_ gotten better. But if I'm gonna be working for him I need to make sure he's gonna respect me. I don't wanna be his workplace punching bag or anything." Joey said quietly, rubbing his neck. So much for asserting dominance in a business dealing.

Mokuba peered up at him again. "Yeah I know, but I doubt he'll hire you just to be cruel, he'd never do something that he thinks might risk his work just to spite someone."

"Yeah, he does pretty well at that without putting KaibaCorp on the line." Joey muttered under his breath, before turning his attention to Mokuba's previous remark. "Wait, you think hiring me is a risk?"

Mokuba's hands flew up defensively. "No, not at all! It's just…well, public testing is always a bit of a risk and…" he caught a glance of Joey's bitter expression and began stumbling over his own words.

"N-no, no, I mean-"

"Nah, I get it. You guys can't trust anyone a hundred per cent." Joey tried to keep his tone light, after all, the Kaiba brothers had more than enough reason to be distrustful of everyone and had years of experience to back this reasoning up, but he couldn't suppress the contempt that seeped into his voice. Even after years and years of it, he still felt a little crushed when people didn't have faith in him.

Mokuba interrupted his thoughts with a sharp, "Joey, listen, Seto doesn't trust you, but he also knows that you're not gonna jeopardize him for no reason. If he does say no, it'll probably be out of pride or spite. In the end he's in control of the outcome, but I'll see if I can convince him to hire you. I know all of his weak spots and I can be pretty manipulative when I want to. I can't be sure he'll say yes, but I can do my best." Mokuba smiled a little before leaning over the table, and his voice became soft again. "And for the record, I trust you. One hundred per cent."

Joey blinked at him for a second before breaking into a warm smile. "Thanks, kiddo."

"So I can't guarantee Seto will say yes, but if he does are you in?"

Joey thought about the connotations of accepting a job at Kaiba Corp, the risks of working under one of his greatest rivals, and weighed the good with the bad in regards to the job. Mokuba had already established that game testing wasn't all it was cracked up to be, he would probably be challenged by this new job, and there was some risk attached with submerging himself in the virtual world again. There was also a high chance of Kaiba saying no, and even if he did hire Joey, it was a gamble.

But Joey's Duel Monsters deck was full of gamble cards. And they'd never failed him before.

He grinned up at his potential new work partner.

"Yeah, I'm in."

* * *

_As usual, please review and stay tuned for more chapters to come. - Dex_


	4. Chapter 4

_Updated 18/1/16_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

It had been about 20 minutes since Mokuba had said goodbye (of sorts) and sped away from the cafe in his limo, leaving Joey to get swept away by the morning's bustle that flooded the streets. In that time Joey's excitement hadn't lulled for a second, even with his uncertainty about the work prospect at Kaiba Corp and the full possibility of not being hired at all. In fact, his inability to know the outcome of the job opportunity only stirred his excitement up more.

He actually felt a little stupid, getting so worked up over something as simple as a job. Peering around at the strangers that occasionally bumped against him as they hurried to work, he couldn't imagine any of these stern adults bubbling and giddy over an employment prospect, and here he was, practically skipping.

He wished he could at least get his stomach under control. Ever since the offer had arisen it had flipped and spun uncontrollably, and now that he'd stuffed himself with pancakes and parfait at Mokuba's insistence, his stomach juggled the food inside him, spinning uncomfortably like some sickening wash cycle.

If he had a moment to himself he might have been able to calm down, but by the time he'd left the cafe, rush hour was well underway and he found himself deep in a giant flock of civilians herded along by the constant anthem of ticking clocks.

As sickening and uncertain as the job offer was, he felt good. Better than he had in months, in fact. The uncertainty of it did more than excite him, it _thrilled_ him, and despite the fact that the offer was a big alteration of the routine he'd fallen into after high school, he felt more comfortable and natural then he had in ages. Initially, his sudden influx of happiness had been a mystery to him, but in the time he had to consider it, he'd deduced that the reason he felt so normal for the first time in so long was because the uncertainty and danger of the job opportunity was reminiscent of another routine he'd tried become accustomed to for the majority of his life: his past adventures with Yugi.

During high school his life had been haphazard and dazed. Every other month he and his friends were fighting some supernatural battle, or escaping from the clutches of evil. But at the same time, every other month they were also climbing to the top of the charts, becoming world-renowned duelist elites and surrounded by admirers and competitors. Between rescuing souls and confronting monsters, they relished in the high life of the dueling world.

Life had been less like a highway and more like a roller coaster, orienting between smooth sailing and a white-knuckled ride. Even through the danger and the pain, he had thrived on that lifestyle and everything that came with it, and in those days he'd been happier than he ever had been before.

While he was living them he fell into the inescapable trap of taking them for granted. Back then they were simply part of his life and many times he even found himself scrambling for control and wishing for a break as the days passed in a blur and each new battle hit him like a train. But now that those days were over and he was able to reflect on them, he cherished their memory, and to him they became the highlights of his life. It only made sense that he would find comfort in anything that held a whisper of a semblance of those times, and he gathered that this latest development in his life fit that criteria.

But there was a question that lingered, nibbled his happiness at the corners. He tried to ignore it, but eventually it crawled into his focus anyway.

_'Why are those times the highlights of my life at all?' _

It was odd. Looking back on it, the question seemed obvious, but it had never occurred to him.

He couldn't place why he found happiness and solace in such a wild, traumatic period of his life. Throughout what he considered to be his halcyon days his friends' lives had been endangered, he'd seen plenty of terrifying, unexplained things and he'd lost his soul and almost died at the clutches of evil more times than he cared to count, and yet he was still able to look back on those times fondly, finding the good nestled among the bad. It seemed an impossible feat, and yet he did it effortlessly…and he wondered how. His friends were a huge part of it, and the lingering memories of the Pharaoh, but there was something bigger. Something more.

He didn't want to end up tangling in his own emotions as he attempted to figure himself out, especially since the happiness he felt held some weight, as though it couldn't flit away like it had before, so he turned his attention elsewhere.

His walk back to his apartment might have eased him back into a sense of calm again, but any hope of a calming morning walk had been left behind at the café when he was whisked away by the bustle of the morning rush.

Among all of the clamor and immersed in the underlying sense of panic that ushered the working class to their tall ugly, buildings, he found it impossible to relax so he abandoned his attempts all together.

He didn't have the nerve to brave an attempt at wading his way out of the tide to start on his walk back home just yet, so he simply shuffled along like everyone else.

While he moved, he unfurled his fingers and stared down at the Kaiba Corp business card that he hadn't realized he'd crushed in his fist.

As Alice had cleared away their empty plates back at the cafe, Mokuba had slipped it out from the depths of a leather wallet that seemed far too small for its contents and slid it across the table. He'd given Joey the time it took for him to down the rest of his coffee to examine the card.

It was just cardboard, Joey had known that, but something about it seemed inherently _valuable_. Perhaps it was just the familiar Kaiba Corp logo that dominated its surface and always seemed to exude wealth and success.

The thick, black lettering was professional, as always, and yet the symbol seemed strangely rebellious as the blue silhouette of a dragon curled around the letters and lifted them from the flat neutrality of the paper, marking the card like a fingerprint from Kaiba himself.

As Joey had angled it in the morning's sunrise, the white had taken on a silvery sheen, and the blue dragon had seemed to come alive under the surface. For something as simple as a business card it was quite striking.

And there was something about the dragon itself...like Kaiba's ferocity was clawing through the paper, marking his territory. Ever since he claimed the dragons for himself and himself alone, the Blue Eyes was not just a monster, but rather a symbol. Kaiba's symbol.

Joey then realized that he was working himself up, and he'd let the card hit the table with a weightless slap.

Mokuba had asked him what he thought of it, and when he gave it praise, (as much as he could on a topic he knew little about) the boy had taken on an air of self importance when he described his role in its creation. Then he'd had finished his coffee, grabbed the card and hunched over it, ballpoint pen in hand.

Even after absently crumpling the cardboard in his fist 20 minutes later, Joey could still make out the two phone numbers Mokuba had scrawled on the back.

As they'd waited for the limo outside the cafe, he'd informed Joey that the first number was for his personal cell (which he should call sparingly), the second was for any questions that he still had regarding the beta work.

When Mokuba neglected to tell him more about the second contact Joey had pressed him for information, only to be met with sly grins and snickers which further confused him. When the limo arrived, he tailed the kid like a lost puppy as he parted the sea of people that flooded the street, nervously asking over and over just who the number would direct him to, only to be met with the same teasing responses as before.

When Mokuba climbed into the limo and prepared to leave without giving him any hint as to whom the number belonged to, he grew tiresome of the boy's game and practically yelled, "Who the hell am I calling, here?" in the middle of the street surrounded by strangers.

Rather than caving at Joey's forceful tone, Mokuba had simply shot him another one of his devilish grins along with a sly, "You'll see."

Then he'd winked, slammed the car door shut and left Joey to gape in the limo's wake as it sped away. It seemed that Mokuba had also inherited his brother's habit of making dramatic exits.

Joey let the morning procession carry him along as he sucked on his bottom lip, thinking.

Thanks to the younger boy and his own habit of exaggeration he now felt as though he was carrying a bomb clenched in his fist.

Joey wasn't the most informed guy on the planet and in his personal opinion he didn't need to be. Most of the time he was comfortable with a fair amount of ignorance, but when he knew he was in the dark about something crucial he despised it, and something about Mokuba's attitude seemed like a challenge, which he naturally felt obliged to take up.

So with sly grins and a wink Mokuba had both deterred him from ringing the number and at the same time planted a seed of curiosity in his stomach.

The kid had analyzed him and manipulated him, the same way his demon of a brother did. He acted in a way that he knew would set Joey off, and make him back himself into a corner.

Or maybe Joey was looking too far into it and it had just been Mokuba taking on the role of an irritating teenager, rather than concocting some master plan simply to mess with him. It sounded like a much more reasonable explanation, but Joey couldn't let go of the image of Mokuba throwing back his head and cackling evilly in the back of the limo. All he needed was a spiky trench coat.

Joey continued along the street, allowing the crowd to carry him, and as time passed he became more and more eager to make the call and see just what the kid was playing at. His eagerness took on a more urgent form as he patted his pockets and realized that in his hurry to leave that morning, he'd left his cell stuffed in the pocket of the jeans he'd flung into his cupboard the night before. The mystery of the number transformed from a point of curiosity to an itch he couldn't scratch, and quickly consumed his thoughts.

The more he considered about it, the more it bothered him. If Mokuba was indeed messing with Joey or even attempting to prank him, why would he want to? Especially considering they way he'd encouraged Joey to take up the career opportunity only a short while ago.

The kid wasn't _evil_, so there was no way he'd jeopardize Joey's opportunity for work before he even got started, which ruled out the possibility of an awkward phone call with a higher up at Kaiba Corp or even a certain CEO. And Joey doubted that the number would just lead to some public call center or anything like that, in terms of a prank, that was just lame.

That meant that this wasn't going to be just any old phone call. Which again posed the question: who the hell was he calling here?

As the crowd carried him along, the inquiry steeped in his mind, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't smother the incessant impatience his curiosity had stirred within him.

He occupied his twitched fingers by attempting to smooth out the thick, stiff cardboard of the furrowed business card. He had to admit that when he first realized that he'd crushed the card, the idea that he'd so easily damaged something that bore Kaiba's image had been a little elating. But he regretted it now as he attempted to straighten it and the creases marked the silvery card like scars, the blue dragon bent out of shape as it clung desperately to the distorted Kaiba Corp logo.

He turned the card over in his hand and once again inspected the numbers Mokuba had written on the back, fruitlessly seeking familiarity in the blue digits, despite never having seen them before.

By the time he finally broke free of the surging crowd of people flooding the street and began making his way home, the tugging, insistent curiosity in his stomach was becoming overwhelming.

The contemporary metropolitan sprawl gave way to tattered buildings and endless alleyways around him as he walked, and he knew he was almost home when the usual stale, damp scent flooded his nostrils.

One of the reasons he disliked taking trips into Domino Square was the way his own living quarters demolished under his gaze in comparison to the bright, modern stretch of the city. He always adapted to the surroundings he was forced to live in and was resilient and optimistic to the point of where he was almost naive, and it was only once he was exposed to something better that he grasped the deficiency of his situation. And after that busy morning, his run-down apartment building looked particularly abysmal.

_'It's like snobbishness is contagious.'_ And where he was, it only made things harder.

As he trudged up the stairs to his apartment he could feel his excitement and uneasiness rising in his throat like bile. Eventually he reached the door to his apartment and the minute he entered his room, he shut the door behind him and scurried over to the cupboard.

He dug his cell out of the pocket of his old jeans and held it cradled in his hands as he slumped onto the bed, barely noticing as he sunk down into the broken mattress.

He'd been surging home that whole morning, but now that he was finally here it felt like he'd hit a brick wall. He knew exactly what to do next, but strangely enough, now that he could actually do it he felt tethered.

He didn't know why this was affecting him so badly. It was just a phone number. If Mokuba _was_ evil enough to direct him towards his brother, or if things didn't go well he could just hang up, the same way he and Tristan used to, snickering all the while, when they made prank calls as kids.

He wasn't confronting anyone directly, no one could reach through the phone and knock him on his ass, and he didn't see a reason for them to want to. So why was this so nerve wracking?

He flipped open the phone and stared at the glowing blue screen for a second, considering it. Then it swam up behind his eyes in the form of a stray thought and he realized.

This was the first real step he was taking towards getting invested in the job opportunity.

Sure, he'd vaguely agreed to take up the offer and asked Mokuba a fair amount of questions regarding it at the cafe, but the questions were just a way for him to gauge the danger of the job before he really considered it as a possibility, and the vague agreement was just that: vague. This was the first real move he was making to become interested, learn more, and possibly become fixated on it.

That's where his anxiety was stemming from, not just from the person the number belonged to, but also the things they would tell him. Would he like what they had to say?

He was nervous about making the call only to discover that the career which had finally provided some deviation in his now lackluster life wasn't suited for him, but he was also afraid of finding that the job was perfect for him, becoming engrossed by the possibility and hopeful for the first time in a while, only to have Mokuba inform him that his brother has disallowed him from joining the program. Both outcomes left him abandoned, and watching as his newly found happiness trickled through his fingers. It reminded him far too much of his parent's divorce.

And the way that his friends had left him behind.

He clenched the phone in his fist and crushed his eyes shut. Sure, if he made the call he stood the risk of rejection, but it was a step that needed to be taken. To him this wasn't just a phone call, this was a hurdle. A landmark.

_'Maybe a land_mine_.' _

He shook the thought from his head. Either he take the risk, or miss the opportunity to rise above the miserable routine he'd fallen into. And what was that previous thought about gamble cards never failing him?

_'Come on Joey, you can do this.' _

So he lifted the crumpled business card up beside his cell and began punching the numbers in.

After years of use the keys were sticky and held some resistance, so he ended up mashing his thumb into them to type anything out, and was reminded of why he didn't use his cell often. He needed a new phone that was for sure, but it fell into the mattress, coffee, and comfort category. Unnecessary.

Of course, the way it turned this landmark into a physical effort did nothing to settle his nerves.

When he was done, he glanced back and forth between the numbers on the card and the 10 digits glowing snugly on the screen, making absolutely sure that not a single number was out of place. When he'd recited them both and found no errors, he took a deep breath, steeled himself and pressed the ring button.

The sound of the dial tone trilling at his ear felt akin to someone rapping long nails across his exposed spine, and he ended up biting his lip as he waited. He tapped the heel of his sneaker on the ground anxiously like an offbeat drum to the shrill ringing.

As the dial tone stretched on and on, he began losing faith that he'd get a reply, and his incessant tapping slowed to a stop.

After another tone sounded he pulled the phone away from his ear and hovered his thumb over the hang up button. A cocktail of relief and disappointment swirled in his stomach as the excitement that had heated him earlier fizzled away, leaving him cold.

_'They'll call me back.'_ He decided, and glumly pressed down.

Nothing happened. The dial tone trilled on.

He grumbled and began mashing his thumb into the button. He'd attempted to jump the hurdle and ended up catching his foot and tumbling, and while there was nothing he could have done differently, he still felt like he'd failed, and all he wanted to do forget about it.

But his phone and its well-used (broken) buttons had another idea. His frustration mounted as the ancient technology stubbornly refused to hang up and he allowed his irritation to clog the gap that his disappointment had gouged in his chest. He actually lifted the phone in preparation to throw it across the room when the dial tone suddenly cut off and he heard a muffled voice on the other line.

_'It could just be the recorded message.'_ He told himself, but he still hurriedly brought it to his ear.

"Uh, hello?" he winced a little at that. _'Smooth, Joey.' _

_"Hello, who is this?" _

Joey nearly dropped the phone. He recognized that voice.

"Is that…?" he uttered in disbelief.

Mokuba's wink made sense now. It wasn't the evil gesture of a manipulative brat; it was a friendly pat on the back. Like "have fun, kid."

_"Who is this?"_ The voice repeated, a little more demanding, and now he was sure he recognized that rich, haughty drawl. It dripped through the phone like chocolate.

"Mai? Is that really you?"

For a second there was silence, before her voice filled his ear again, low and astonished.

_"Joey?" _

After he pressed the hang up button, he flopped back on his creaky bed and absently heard his phone bounce away and clatter to the floor.

His throat was scratchy and aching, the way it always did after he'd been talking too much. The way it was supposed to after calling a friend.

She was the first real, close companion he'd talked to after the gang had left and he'd stubbornly reserved himself to passive silence, but still, he'd never understand why Mai left him feeling so dazed. Most saw her as a bombshell, but those who knew her knew she was a bomb, through and through. Fiery, dangerous and explosive, and yet at the same time distant, thoughtless and destructive. Just hearing her talk left him feeling as exhilarated as he was exhausted.

Maybe he'd never fully understand her, but he understood as much as he needed to for them to work. Work as what, though? Friends? More? Another thing he'd probably never figure out. But he didn't want to go digging any further. He just wanted to enjoy what they had.

Suddenly his muscles relaxed until he thought he might melt right into his cheap mattress. His eyelids felt like dead weights and his cheeks like stiff putty. He'd gone through a wild morning all mildly hung over, and constantly fluctuating between happiness and depression. It seemed that his limited energy supply had finally drained after the phone call. He reached up and rubbing his eyes until black and white galaxies exploded behind his eyelids.

Of course it had been Mai. He was an idiot for not working it out sooner. She'd been through the virtual world same as them, and gone through the process of becoming a tester for the Legendary Heroes game. She knew how it worked, how to operate the system, she'd had personal experience working for Kaiba, and Mokuba had probably sensed Joey's apprehension at asking strangers for help, so he'd directed Joey to her, knowing that they were close. Maybe he'd deliberately hoped to set up a reunion. Maybe he'd sensed Joey's loneliness.

Whether they were driven by pity or not, Mokuba's intentions didn't matter, Joey was just thankful for the kid. In a few hours, he'd staggered Joey off the path he'd been traveling down for months and blew his set course to bits, and Joey couldn't have been gladder. Now, he was set to meet Mai for lunch in a few hours. At the though of it, his stomach exploded into butterflies.

He hadn't seen her in so long. Had she changed? Had he changed? Would they still work the way they used to?

He pushed his worries aside, mainly he was just happy about the fact that soon he'd be sitting across from her, hearing her laugh in person.

Suddenly his energy spiked and he felt inspired again. After all, this was the first time he'd be seeing her in ages, he needed to get dressed and make a good impression. He sat up in bed and for the third time that morning stared at his reflection.

He hadn't felt fulfilled or content in a long time, it occurred to him. His loneliness and longing were constant, and while they hadn't been welcome they weren't displaced with him either. He was too strong now for them to overpower him like they used to, but he wasn't strong enough to rid himself of them either. They seemed to just hover by, and at one point he'd tuned his own unhappiness out until it was little more than background noise. At some point he'd left his hopes of a happier life behind and accepted the misery of adulthood, and part of him, the same part that, in his darker moments, sent long forgotten mistakes and faults nipping at his heels, welcomed the idea that his new dejection was permanent and he'd never return to the happiness that once defined him. But it was all a lie.

Now he stared at his reflection and it was like he was looking at a photo from long ago. Like for months he'd been drifting through life asleep, and he'd just been shaken awake. Whatever that had been eating him from inside and twisting him into something else had retreated and with it, the tension that had contorted his face had left him. Now, staring at his bright, happy eyes and the way a smile crept onto his face without him even trying, the idea that he could become someone else, someone he was not seemed so ridiculous it made him want to laugh.

Instead he opened up his cupboard and started rummaging through his clothes, trying to find something to wear.

_'After all, I have to keep up my reputation as a hot piece of ass if I'm meeting with Mai Valentine.'_ He grinned to himself, tossing a pair of dark blue jeans onto his bed along with several shirts. He liked to consider himself a manly man, but when it came down to it, he could be just as picky as Yugi when it came to deciding what to wear.

He started shuffling through the garments on his bed, eliminating options until he selected a shirt he'd bought a while ago when he had the money to afford it, but had never really had the opportunity to wear it.

He started undressing and felt the urge to somehow contain his happiness, to not let it overwhelm him, but it was too late for that.

It was hard to believe that this morning he'd woken up depressed. Now he was bouncing off the walls. Now he had a new job offer, a phone number to a friend and lunch with a beautiful lady. Not bad for a morning's work.

He pulled on the shirt, combed his fingers through his hair and glanced at his reflection, but found himself only staring at his seemingly invincible smile.

_'Not bad at all.'_


End file.
